Nightmare
by Wedjatqi
Summary: Teyla deals with her choice in ending Michael's life. Inspired by the episode 'Prodigal' S5.


**Disclaimers**: I own no part of the Stargate world, I make no money from this and I wish that I could make money from having such fun.

**Note:** Continuing on with my fics inspired by each episode of S5, this episode (prodigal) has already inspired a couple of fics out of me that really encompass what I would want to explore from this episode – 'For Light Does the Darkness Most Fear' and 'The Questioning Way', so in many ways I don't feel I could outdo those fics. However, I promised myself I would write a fic for each episode as I go through them now, so I have written this small piece, looking at the decision Teyla made and how that may affect her afterwards. Because the Teyla character we knew up to this point would not have brushed such a decision aside so lightly as the end of the episode implied IMHO.

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The dark sky surrounded them, the city even darker below, and yet the moonlight was strong and bright enough for her to see the shine of its light in his eyes.

She stepped up to the edge of the ledge, his white fingers even paler with the strain to hold onto life. She moved closer, looking down at him hanging free, the dark depth of space below him. If only he had fallen.

Her eyes fell back to those white shaking hands that grasped onto his only salvation. It would be so easy…

Torren would be safe, and she would be able to sleep at night in the sweet knowledge that this nightmare hanging below her would never return to torture her son as he had her. It would be so simple.

So many had died, and had died in suffering pain, their families forced to watch. All because of this cruel creature. The universe would be so much safer without him in it, and she would be able to sleep properly once more.

It would be just, and it would be what he deserved.

The wind whipped around her, chilling her arms, but it only served to heighten her awareness of the moment. Her hair danced around her face, framing her vision of him below her.

He had held her captive for weeks, waiting for her to give birth, and in each moment she had hated him. She reached for that despair and anger again and let it fill her.

Her boot kicked out and half of his grip was easily lost.

"Teyla!" He called up to her.

The surprise to his voice goaded her on, because he had always played on her weaknesses, thought her weak with sympathy for him. Not this time. This time, she would make sure that he would not hurt anyone else again and her son would be safe.

But, the desperation of his voice registered as well, and she felt something inside falter.

He hung on by four lone fingers, swinging free, and it would take nothing to break his hold of the ledge and his hold of life with it. Then he would be gone. Truly gone. She wanted that feeling with a sharp aching passion. She wanted to feel safe again, as in the days before this creature had taken her people.

Her people. He had done terrible things to her people and he would have terrible plans for Torren. Past injustice met future fear and she shifted her weight onto one foot.

Behind her she was aware of John's presence, felt his eyes on her though she never looked away from those last clinging fingers. John had almost been killed. He had fought Michael, fought a creature so much stronger than him. Ronon lay below in the Gate Room as well, her heart aching in prayer that he as alive, and she let that feed her anger brighter. Two of her closest friends had done all they could, fought to save her and Torren, to save innocent lives in the city, whereas this monster…he wanted nothing but destruction and cruelty.

Her boot lifted and she kicked out.

His fingers came away far easier than she had expected and abruptly he dropped, falling away from her, his eyes still looking up at her. The moonlight shone over him as she watched him fall, watched her choice, her action to protect the galaxy and ensure her son's safety unfold.

The darkness engulfed the falling body and she did not need to hear the impact of his death below. He was gone.

Her strength wavered for a moment, questions and her own shock rising, but she forced it down. He was gone and finally dead. Atlantis was safe. Torren was safe now.

She looked round to John, her hair blanketing her face for a moment. He did not meet her eyes, looking down at the ledge. She had protected him as much as everyone else. He would not judge her for this action. She knew he would not, but she looked away as his head lifted, and she was looking back down at the ledge.

The shadows shifted around her and the moonlight shone off alien eyes, staring up at her, his fingers white and tight on the ledge that was all that had saved him. If only he had fallen.

She stepped up closer to the ledge and looked down at him, the moonlight shining enough to catch the light of his eyes as he stared up at her.

Below him, she could see the dark depths of the city below, it would be so easy…

Inside the awareness of repetition circled, but she was lost in the thoughts of the choice again. Thoughts, of the horrors this creature had brought into this galaxy and the fear she would always feel for her son's safety if he lived. She had the power to change all of that and to bring justice where it had been lacking. She had to do this. He had to be stopped permanently.

Yet, as much as she felt justified in this decision, as she lifted her boot to free him of the ledge and his life, part her stood back, aware of this repeating moment circling in her nightmares. The decision she was sure of, yet…on a deeper level it had rippled through her painfully. Her son was safe, yet…was she?

She kicked and he fell, dropping away with the suddenness of inevitable consequence. With his death she was freed, those she loved were safer, and the galaxy brought some small measure of justice. Yet, there were lingering questions, shock in herself, and the loss of some sense of her own innocence. It was a choice she had believed in and would repeat to free those she loved, yet it haunted her still. He may have died, but it was almost as if something of him remained, clinging to her conscience. Would she ever be free?

The shadows and wind shifted, and he came into view again. The sky was dark around them, but enough moonlight shone for her to see his desperate eyes staring up at her. If only he had fallen.

She stepped up closer to the ledge, locked into the moment once again, the fears and needs rising. He had hurt so many, so many victims.

His white fingers were shaking with exhaustion and she lifted her boot. It would be so easy…and then he would be gone forever.

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The End.


End file.
